Alone is Only a Word
by Abi2
Summary: Alone is only a word. Signifying a state of feeling. But if you are alone, can you really feel? Or is it all in your head...?
1. The word is only a begining

Look, this is a bunch of crap. Suicide, and whatnot, so if you don't like crap like that, then don't read it. You report me on fanfiction and I'll find you and make sure you never do that to anyone again. Some of the best authors on there have been deleted by little snot-nosed shits like you. So please, respect the abuse button. It gets you deleted without questions or a chance to defend yourself. So DON'T DO IT.  
  
And in other news... I don't own anything except a third of the computer I typed this up on. Not the song Naked by Avril or Yugioh.This is based on personal experience too. I think that its one of either Y, M, or R. Don't understand that? Then check again in a few days. If I actually get reviews I'll finish and you'll know.  
  
Sorry I'm so horrible right now, but I am having a shit day, and a shit week. The next month will be the worst ever. If you want to know more about the story or about me, email me. I love to talk.  
  
Please review?  
  
&&&&&  
  
I wake up in the morning,   
  
Put on my face.   
  
The one that's gonna get me,   
  
Through another day.   
  
Doesn't really matter,   
  
How I feel inside.   
  
Life is like a game sometimes...   
  
&&&&&&&&&&  
  
No note.   
  
No sappy love letter, or touching farewells. I know that if they miss me, they miss me. And do I need to justify my actions to anyone? No. Just me, and whatever lies beyond. Plus, if something were to happen, such as it not "working", then I'd be placed in a hospital and stared at through a window for the rest of my natural life. So, back to where I left off. No note.   
  
It isn't that I've been ignored. Or that no one loves me. I just can't help the feelings of helplessness, and of uselessness. I mean, what on earth am I supposed to be doing? I can't even manage to get through high school in one piece, let alone the rest of my life. So what else can I do with these felings? The feelings I've had most of my life. I just keep it down, and put on the mask of happiness.   
  
That mask gets me into trouble. I guess its because of my complacency. My urge to please everyone. And they exploit that. Inside, I'm screaming, and crying, and it aches. But on the outside, I'm smiling, or staring into space with a look of utter exhaustion. Not they they would notice.   
  
It takes a lot to keep playing charades. To keep emotions under check. Under lock and key. Some days I slip up, and those days are the ones I get lost in. They look at me, and I can't help but snap. I scream, and cry and hide. I just blame it on hormones. They believed me, thats the funniest thing.  
  
But now, after so many years of lying and hiding the truth from the eyes of the world, I am going to end it. Going to sleep for eternity, and to let them question their actions. If they feel sorry about anything, then let them. I'm not doing this thing because I want to "get back" at them.   
  
I just want to be free of the lies.  
  
And it isn't as though whatever created me didn't expect this to happen. I have a high pain tolorence, and a deppressive nature. Just a suicide waiting to happen there, isn't it?  
  
But it doesn't matter. I've cut for maybe three years now. It started out as an experiment. I wanted to know why people did this thing. And then it morphed into something I couldn't keep hidden much longer. My forearms are a web of spider's silk. Thin silver scars run along the arms, some longer than others. Some deeper, some barely there. I try to keep them hidden. It has been four months since I cut. There at least.  
  
I moved it to my legs, as they are easier to hide in the summer months. These are deep gashes that didn't heal correctly, so they are pink scars of varing degrees of indention. But who cares?   
  
Right?   
  
Right.  
  
Now, on to the main event.  
  
I'm staring at my blade. It is a knife, a dagger really, that I got at a festival once. I saw this dagger, and I had to have it. The handle is pewter twisted into a braid-like thing. And the hilt is wrapped in black leather, with the steel blade curved just a little. It really is gorgeous. And so as I admire, I test its weight, and without really thinking about it, I am testing my will.   
  
Can I really do this thing?  
  
Yes.  
  
A short line appears as I drag the blade lighty across the veins at the base of my wrist. The pain is like a papercut, wicked at first, but dull later. A breath and a hope for the rest I so want.  
  
Pressing down on the wrist as I quickly swipe the blade across, the pain comes, and with it some blood. I had to know if I could really do it. And now that I know I can...  
  
A dragging pain from my wrist to close to my elbow. And then a shaking blood covered hand closing numbly around the blade. The pain is overwhelming, but it is starting to dull. Another swipe across the wrist and then up the forearm. It hurts, it really does.  
  
I know that it will be done soon, so I settle myself with my back againts the tub.   
  
Yes, I'm in the bathroom. Just in case, you know? But as the pain is dulling, so is everything else.   
  
Overall, not a very pleasant experiance. I'm nauseous, and sticky and hot, then cold, then hot again. The room feels stuffy and my heart is beating erraticly. And there isn't a thing I can do about it. A can feel my muscles tensing, trying to close together again. But to no avail. The room is getting a little fuzzy... A little darker... Was blood always so bright?  
  
I can't hear anything but the roar of pumping blood in my ears, and I can taste the coppery blood from the air. It clings to my lungs as though it wants to suffocate me. I can't breathe well anymore, and my heart is slowing. My vision is almost black, but thats because I can't keep my eyes open. I stop thinking about breathing, and about anything really. The pain is mostly gone, but I can't tell you why. It just happens I guess.  
  
Ha. So this is what its like to bleed to death. Quiet. Slow. Uneventful. In the stories, they always feel horrible things, or it is over really quickly. I feel as though it has been a few minutes, maybe only a few seconds. But how should I know?  
  
Or care for that matter.  
  
A shudder runs through my dying body, and I feel no more.  
  
&&&&&&&&&  
  
The body slowly slid to they floor as the blood still trickled out. But the chest did not stop rising and falling. The clots had finaly formed in the arms and so the bleeding had all but stopped. Not that there was much to stop at this point. But he kept breathing. Kept living.  
  
&Several hours later&  
  
A small graon was the only sign of life in the quiet house. Too dizzy to sit up, the figure that lay slumped on the ground opened one eye, and carefully looked around. Uncomprehending of the current situation, they looked about in a dumb wonder. What was all this crimson? And why was it wet, and yet dry and brown in most places? Where was he? Why couldn't he remember why he was here? THere was something important about this place...  
  
Oh. Yeah. GOD DAMNIT! Why hadn't it worked? Was his body against him too? Oh well. Theres always next time. But for now, he neeed to move and either try again, or clean up the mess. He sat up with great difficulty. A labored glance at the clock on the wall told him that it was seven hours after he had last looked at that clock. Seven hours. Why did he have to wake up? Was it possible for the body to replace its own blood that fast? No. It can't be.  
  
So what happened?  
  
Why was his very existance against his wishes now?   
  
'A fine time for whatever to kick in and save my sorry ass.'  
  
So now what? DId he try again? Or clean up? If he tried again, he would more than likely end up dead. Like he wanted. Or he could continue the charade, and try again later.   
  
Nothing about this experience had put him off of doing it. It was just that he wasn't sure if he had enough strength right now to do either. He smelled the air unintentionally, and retched at the horrible stench of drying and decaying blood. He glanced at his arms, and saw the dried blood, caked on and cracking as he moved.   
  
"Nasty..." The first word he spoke was more of a hoarse cough than a word. He thought about his options again. 


	2. And the middle is just a vision

"Do I do it? Do I try it? Or do I live in a half-lie? To live and walk and breathe-" His thoughts were cut off as the noise of the phone was heard. He listened as the answering machine picked up, and he listened as the caller left a message.   
  
Not for him. Never for him.  
  
Another sigh.  
  
He lurched to his feet as he grasped the toilet to balance himself. The wave of dizzyness passed quickly.   
  
"I live" he said dryly. He laughed hoarsly as he noticed with a slight glance the shape of the dried blood.  
  
"It's a blood angel." And it was. His blood caked and staining the linolium around the tub and toilet. It would be nasty to clean.  
  
His attention turned to the tub. He needed to clean up. Starting with himself.  
  
A stumbling into the shower and a blast of freezing water. He sat in the tub with the shower on, and waited under the spray as it warmed up. The water at first washing over him and draining as a mix of dry flakes of crimson and a tinge of pink. Then it was just faintly tinted.  
  
His arms burned as the too-hot water rained upon the wounds. He hissed at the sensation. His nerves were on fire now, the stimulation reminding him that he was in pain.  
  
"Damnit." He stood up and slowly unbuttoned his ruined jeans. He slipped out of the soggy material and started on the shirt. Lifting it above his head and letting it drop to the floor.   
  
The soap ran over the cuts, stinging and sterillizing.  
  
Ouch.   
  
The water then flowed clear, and he stepped out with the water still running. He scrubbed the floor with the ruined shirt and jeans. The cuts almost reopening in his arms as he did so.   
  
The water ran red as he rinsed the shirt. He repeated this many times until the floor was reasonably clean.   
  
Then turning off the water he grabbed a towel from the back of the door and he wrapped it around his hips.   
  
'Well, that was fun..."  
  
&%&%&%&%&%&%&%%&  
  
His room is three doors down the hall on the right. The end of the hall. And no one ever came down far enough to look into it.  
  
It was a mess, the clothes piled in the corners, and other various items spilling out from other piles. The dusky blue of his walls darker than they really were because of the shaded window.  
  
And it smelled of clean laundry and stale blood.  
  
Inhale. A sense of home, of longing and of nights spent in desolate isolation.  
  
Exhale. Another wasted breath...  
  
The walk in closet the had more on the floor than hanging up. He grabbed two t-shirts and a pair of pants.  
  
After dressing he went to his dresser to get his x-acto knife. He took the other shirt and cut it into large strips for bandages.  
  
"Never liked that shirt anyways."  
  
Was this what they meant by mental instability? Wasn't he supposed to be anguishing over what he did or didn't accomplish?  
  
Oh well.  
  
He wrapped his arms in the makeshift bandages, tieing them off carefully. Afterall, he only had one hand to work with on each arm...  
  
And so he had black-wrapped forearms, and disheveled, wet hair.   
  
'What a sight I must make. They'll never notice anyway.'  
  
He laughed. if they did, they wouldn't know the difference.  
  
All the kids today wore arm warmers, and long sleeves all year long. He wouldn't stand out.   
  
He never did.  
  
&%&%&%&%&%&%&%&%&%&%  
  
I never thought tha a failure could make me feel superior. I almost feel as though I cheated death.  
  
But I didn't. It rejected me.  
  
Like everything in this life.  
  
Am I invincible?  
  
Am I invisible?  
  
I always thought so.   
  
Standing still in the middle of a busy sidewalk, and no one glances at me. They seem to glde right past me wothout a thought or care.  
  
I cry, I scream. I rage, I shudder at myself.  
  
They never notice.   
  
And if they do, why would they tell me?  
  
The little boy with the big soulfull eyes. The one you would notice under any other circumstances.  
  
But not anymore. You won't notice the spectre. The one the afterlife rejected.  
  
And I laugh at your emotions.  
  
&%&%&%&%&%&%&%&%&%&%&%  
  
So there. I updated. Tell me how you like it so far. Thanks to my reviewers, and may there be more. 


	3. The continuation is a meaningless blur

Alone is only a word...

Thanks to my reviewers, you mean so much more to me than I think you realize. And you'll find out who it is in this chapter. I'm working without much inspiriation, except the thought that you might want to see more. So if it sucks, tell me and I'll redo it.

&&&&&&&&

He sat on the grass of the small mid-town park, watching the small children play with their toys. They laugh, so carefree, so wonderful.

I used to be like that, he mused. Or did I? Was I ever so happy just to be alive?

Yes. I must have been.

He giggled slightly at the antics of a couple of kids as they sat on the merry-go-round. It was the kind you sit on and push, so that when you got back off, you wanted to throw up. He hoisted himself off the grass, wanting to take part in the fun. His arms burned with the strain, and his head swam even as his breath shortened. He was only several hours from his attempted suicide, and he hadn't really gotten over the dizzy-nauseous spells yet.

He slowly walked to the playground, and smiled as the children eyed him warily.

So maybe he did look a bit rough...

He couldn't help but be a bit pale and dizzy. Maybe they thought he was drunk...?

He smiled again, a true smile. One reserved only for those precious few moments he found. Those were few and far between nowadays.

And now he waved gently, hoping to gain entrance to their game. He knew how much it would hurt inside if they rejected him, but he felt that it was worth the shot right now.

He cleared a sore throat. "Ahem, hey! D'you think I could join you?" He smiled again.

When was the last time he had smiled so much?

The kids looked nervous, but decided to give it a try. They opened a hole in the merry-go-round, and were ready to start it again. He shook his head.

"No, I'll push, how's that?" He said softly. They nodded enthusiastically now, wanting that free ride!

Heave, heave, heave. Pumping, rushing, faint. The meager amount of blood pumped through aching veins.

He was reminded of a line from a movie, "I ran until my muscles burned and my veins pumped battery acid. Then I ran some more."

Battery acid... That seemed about right.

He heard a faint buzzing as his head went fuzzy, as though wrapped in a towel. But he giggled, and it passed.

That's it, he said, I'm delusional, that's all.

He panted with exertion, but when he saw the kid's faces, he laughed/panted more. He knew that he would probably pass out soon, but, he thought, It was worth it. They are happier now than I have been in ages. So let them have their fun. Lord knows we all need to feel loved.

He stopped, falling to the ground. The kids all laughed and hopped off of the now slowly spinning contraption. One of them leaned over into his field of view and asked him a question.

He took a second to register this before asking one himself.

"What?"

"Are you okay...?"

"...Yeah."

"You sure don't look okay Mr..."

"Yuugi. And y'know what? No, I'm not okay." He smiled. "But thanks anyways."

The kid looked at him funnily as he made to sit up. His head spun and his stomach agreed. Maybe that hadn't been one of his brighter ideas.

"Why aren't you okay Mr. Yuugi?" The kid looked at him with a sense of wariness, as though he might bite.

"It's a long story. But today, I tried something, and even failed at that. One of many things I can't seem to get right. But you shouldn't worry about me, or have to listen to my pathetic life endangering problems. Go, have some fun while you still can." He felt almost as if a weight had been lifted from his heart. As though he wasn't about to collapse from the sheer weight of his troubles.

"...You want me to push you on the wheelie?" The kid smiled.

"....Yeah... Why not?"

He got to his feet dizzily, then managed to climb onto the "wheelie". He lay across it, legs just barely hanging over the side. He sighed as he watched the sky above. Suddenly it started to rotate. The kid was pushing the contraption slowly in a circle, allowing him to watch the world go by in a lazy circle.

"Maybe you were right. Maybe this was what I needed, thanks kid."

"Sometimes, all I need is to have someone to push me. To let me go without having to work at it. Like having someone push you on the swings. Cuz then you can see the other stuff on the playground without having to remember to keep pumping your legs."

Yuugi just contemplated this for a few seconds. He let it wash over him, just as the wind and the sky seemed to wash over his body.

"How do you know so much...I can't even figure out what's going on in my life anymore, and here you are making so much sense. Where were you earlier today... When I needed this so much more?" He said the last bit more to himself than to the kid.

"I was here, figuring that out." The kid smiled in his twirling vision. Then suddenly that smile turned into a gasp and a frightened screech. He pointed to Yuugi, and with wide eyes started to back away.

"What..?" He was groggier than before, but just chalked it up to the spinning.

"Y-y-you...Your arms..." Yuugi managed to lift his head enough to glimpse his arms.

Well, that wasn't good... The black "bandages" were wet, and small drips of blood were seeping cautiously through the thin fabric.

"Fuck." He lay back down, to tired to try to stop the bleeding.

"What happened, Mr. Yuugi? Why are they like that?" The kid was more intrigued than scared at this point.

"Because I was lonely. Because I was utterly and completely useless. Because no one cared. That's why they are the way they are. Because I'm so tired now... Because all I want to do is sleep forever. Because there was no one to push my swing." He started to mumble as he lost his train of thought.

Or more likely his train of consciousness.

The kid looked startled at this revelation, but said nothing as he watched the older teen slowly slip into the grips of unconsciousness.

&&&&&&&&&&&&&

And that's all for now. What will happen to our crazy misfit? No one knows! R&R? Please?


	4. Out of the Ashes, Reborn

"Perhaps it's impossible to wear an identity without becoming what you pretend to be."- Ender's Game By Orson Scott Card.

Here's some more for you, and to answer several (like two) inquiries as to why Yuugi? I see Yuugi as too happy and carefree to be what he pretends to be. I see him as a kind of jaded and incomprehensibly depressed character. But not everyone agrees apparently. And you don't have to. And you know, as to why not Ryou or Malik? Ryou is so always alone except for Bakura. We know he's always sad. And Malik, while fun to write, just wasn't the right one for this story in particular. And this is based on some rather personal experiences. So its my choice when it comes down to it. Sorry. Thanks for reviewing though!

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Bright lights mercilessly awoke the unconscious teen on the merry-go-round. Where? What? Oh. The memories of the past several hours ran through his head, from his suicide attempt to his passing out on the "wheelie" as the kid put it. Speak of the devil, where was the kid? He had seen Yuugi's arms bleeding and then… Yuugi had passed out. He lifted his head to look around, but found that that was a bit too much for him right then. He sighed as his head made a soft "thump" on the metal of his slowly rotating bed.

"Are you okay?" Oh, the little kid again… What was his name? He dredged his memory, but came up blank. He tried to speak, but his throat felt like it was cemented shut and his mouth had cotton in it. His feeble attempt at a nod was understood though.

"Cuz I can go get someone… You fell asleep for a few minutes. You sure?" He all but rushed through his little speech, and Yuugi watched with hooded and distant eyes. He contemplated his offer. To find someone… Someone who might see and then no understand… No. Better to let the kid think that he was just tired.

"Y…Yeah. I'm- I'm fine. Can you h-help me up?" He held out an arm to the kid to help him up. The kid hesitated to take his still bloodied arm, but he did none the less.

"Thanks…" He left it open ended so that he could get the kid's name.

"Kiarou."

"Thanks Kiarou, and I hope to see you again." He stiffly got to his feet and stood swaying with the wind. He took an experimental step with numb feet, but found that he managed to stay upright. He turned to Kiarou and waved a little before walking down the path to get out of the park. His hair was still damp, giving him a bit of a chill as he walked. When you have a small frame as is and add in the blood loss, he didn't have a lot going for him in the warmth department. He wrapped his sore and bleeding arms around his middle, the blood seeping into his shirt making a sticky, smelly mess. He didn't pay much attention to his state of being though. He didn't pay much attention to anything right then.

His thoughts were centered around what the kid – Kiarou- had said. Maybe he was right. Maybe Yuugi could be the one that gave other people hope. The kind of hope that would keep them alive. Be something to others that others had never been to him. A friend… Someone to listen to them as they… Nah. He didn't need other people's problems as well as his own.

Maybe that was why he never burdened others with his problems. He never wanted to make tham feel bad for something they had no control over. But then again, why then would he still listen to all of their problems when they came to him with them?

Hell, he even listened to the bullies when they talked to each other as they beat him to a sad and broken pulp.

How pathetic.

He stopped, fighting a moment of dizzy nauseousness. The world seemed to grow dim, and even the sounds were far away. He felt someone- something?- call to him.

Yuugi… 

What?

What is that?

He was so caught up in his inner searching that he didn't notice the usual bullies gather behind him, blocking him from the view of the other park-goers. They snickered as they saw that their prey wasn't even aware that they were there.

"Hey, Shrimp! Whatcha thinkin' 'bout?" Asked the leader of the group, smacking Yuugi upside the head. Yuugi sputtered for a second and tried to keep standing. But the small slap was all it took to send his weakend body to the ground.

"Hey, I didn't even hit you! Stupid wimp." He sniggered at this truly clever statement, and his friends grabbed Yuugi under his armpits, lifting him so that they could move "somewhere more secluded". What did they want to do, make out with him? Asked the cynical side of his mind. No, just beat the shit outta me.

They approached an ally and tossed him to the ground therein. He caught himself before he could smack his head on the ground, but there was nothing he could do about his shoulder slamming into the dirty, trash filled ally floor. He cried out softly, as his throat was still cemented shut.

"Listen to the wimp!" They all laughed and jeered at his prone and gasping form. His disheveled and damp hair, sunken amethyst eyes, paler than normal skin. The leader went to grab Yuugi by the front of his shirt, but instead Yuugi threw up his arm in a natural defense. He realized to late that this would result in more pain than the shirt grabbing would have.

Oops.

The bully grabbed his forearm in his big hands and squeezed just enough to , for a normal, unhurt person, be uncomfortable. But for someone with huge gashes on their arms, this became a serious screaming matter. And so Yuugi did just that

Screamed bloody murder.

He could actually feel the tenuous scab break and the skin sever as it was trying to heal. He could feel the muscles he had sliced through scream in agonizing, blinding pain as they were gripped hard enough to bruise already bruised and broken skin. He felt the tendons and veins twist and writhe. It was more terrible than can be described as of present.

The bully was startled into letting go as he watched the smaller teen scream in an unending scream of absolute pain. He brought his hand to his face as in the dim light of the ally he noticed something. Yuugi was covered in blood. And his hands were coated in the sticky substance too. Yuugi finally stopped screaming and was reduced to curling into a fetal position and crying softly.

By GOD that HURT!

His overloaded senses finally overpowered his brain, sending him into unconsciousness once more. The bullies gathered around to find out what had hurt the boy so badly as to make him scream like that.

They picked up a limp arm, dripping blood from the soaked bandages.

"What the hell happened to this fucker?" Asked one of them, as he inspected the other arm. "They're both like that!" Upon further inspection, they decide to unwrap one, what could it hurt? They were curious. The leader carefully unwrapped the blood-soaked bandage from Yuugi's arm and almost hurled when he saw what had happened.

"Holy crap. This fucker must have either been the loser of a knife fight, or he did this himself." They all looked at each other, slightly uncomfortable to know that they were standing over a guy that had tried to _kill_ himself.

"Why'd he do that?" Asked a slower one. They all looked uncomfortably around their circle. Maybe they had driven him to…

"I think he really needs some help. We should pro'lly get him to the hospital."

"And risk them thinking it was us you idiot?"

"Well, then lets at least drag him somewhere he might be able to get help, y'know?" They all looked at each other before nodding their assent. They would take him to the park again, and leave him on a bench to be noticed by someone else.

It wasn't like any of them actually _cared._

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And there we end it because I haven't got any inspiration left. My plan was to make the bullies think that they had driven him to suicide, and that he was seriously wrong in the head and leave him be for a while. I'm setting it up so that Yuugi can discover some stuff and do some stuff. Anyways…

R&R?

Thanks.


	5. Second verse, same as the first

Hi again everyone! Happy New year! I, unfortunately have been sick for a few days. The Flu. Yummy! Anywho, we just started school and I've missed three days already, so good bye incentive. Shit. Oh well. On with the show.

"Sweet to think on it, that when we are last weary of all this world there is the rising sun."- The Vampire Armand

P.S- Thanks to Ocean for some of the quotes, I love you!!!

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A violent shudder ran through the wan figure that lay disheveled on the bench. It was deep night now, the last vestiges of the red - hued sunset long gone under skies of blackest blue. A cough, and another shudder. He was waking.

The half-corpse form of Yuugi Motou sat up carefully, dizzy and disoriented. Where was he? His bleary eyes blinked away the heaviness of the deep healing sleep and took in the surrounding area. The park, he determined. Why was he here? Why was he so tired and so utterly devoid of feeling?

He might never know. Or, he hissed, it could be the gaping wounds on my arms. The shirt was, by now, a stiff, disgusting, and terrible smelling waste. The "bandages" were crusted and flaking. And more likely than not they had sealed themselves to the scabs. Damnitall.

He sighed as he stared up at the dark night sky. He let his mind drift, thoughts materializing and dematerializing before they could be fully comprehended.

Has he missed me yet?...

...Has he noticed the floor?...

...I'm hungry...

...God my arms itch...

...The stars are lying bastards...

"I've always loved the night. It's too bright during the day. Nothing can be hidden. There is no mystery because everything can be seen. At night, there's an illusion of privacy. Shadows are present to hide whatever it is you might not want someone to see." Yuugi jumped at the sound of a voice coming from behind him. Where had that come from? Why was someone watching him?

He searched the darkness behind him, but was too tired to make out more than shadows.

"Who's there?" He asked, trying to keep both the fear and the yawn from his voice. He did neither successfully. He started again as the voice sounded from right next to him now.

"I've always loved the night. Do you?" The person was still well within the shadows, as the bench wasn't close to any lamps, but he could see a glint of gold from the person's midsection. Vivid green eyes stared out at him. And was that a flash of white?

"Yeah, but as you said, there's always too much light in the day. Sometimes we need to hide. Then again, some people are always hidden. Even in plain view." He spoke softly, sadly.

""What's your name?" Asked the shadowed -man? teen? A flash of warmth in the cool night.

"Yuugi. And you?"

"Ryou. I just moved here a few weeks ago, from Brtitain." He smiled again, just barely noticeable in the shadows.

"Nice to meet you. What are you doing out here at night? There are some pretty bad characters. You should go back home." Yuugi didn't want anyone to get hurt because they had stopped to talk to him.

"I told you, I love the night time. Why are you out here then?"

Yuugi blushed. Someone actually cared enough to ask him why he put himself in this position. Wait. He didn't know.

"I think I fell asleep. But I should get going now. School and everything. Ja ne." He stood up to go, and almost ended up on the ground, but for a pair of strong arms that grabbed him at the last second.

"Thanks, my feet must've fallen asleep. You can let go, I'l be fine."

"You sure?"

"Yeah. I have to go anyways." He smiled, a stupid meaningless gesture that the other couldn't see anyways. "Bye Ryou."

"Bye. Will I see you at school tomorrow? I go to Domino High now." Those teeth flashed again, and the kind eyes softened Yuugi's heart.

"Yeah. Tomorrow." He started for home.

This is a Page Break………………………………………………………….Just to let you know……………………………………………….

He was almost home. Kame Game Shop, just ahead. His empty stomache gave off sad rumbles that made him double over. He was starved, having not eaten since hours before his ordeal. Lets see, he said in his mind, how long ago was that? Seven hours after I tried I woke up, then it took some time to shower and clean, then to the park, then I woke up a little bit ago. Has to have been at least what, 18 hours or so? He'd had breakfast...

Oh well... He stepped up to the back door, key in hand, ready to enter softly and find some food. But the minute he opened the door he knew he was in for it. The light was on. It had to be past midnight. Why would his grandpa be up this late?

"Yuugi? Is that you?" He heard Sugoroku say. He tried to back out of the doorway quickly and quietly, but to no avail. The old man came through the doorway just as he shut the door, giving Sugoroku a glimpse of disheveled hair. He ran to the door and pulled it open before his grandson could get away.

"Where have you been?" He demanded in a stern voice. He could see the slump in Yuugi's shoulders as he said this. But for some reason he couldn't say it any nicer than that.

"The park Ji-chan. I've been at the park all afternoon. I fell asleep on a bench. Gomen nasai." He softly said, hoping that this would end the interogation and that he could then enter the house and bathe and eat. But it wasn't.

"I was worried!" That struck Yuugi. Worried? No, he never worried about poor little Yuugi.

"I came home from Arthur's with something for you and you were gone! You didn't even leave a note!" Sugoroku was panicked still. What if something had happened?

"Gomen Ji-chan. I was in a hurry." He didn't say what for.

"Well, next time leave a note. Come inside, you must be hungry. Let's talk over some food." Yuugi was hesitant to follow. If Ji-san noticed now, what would happen? Why hadn't he thought of this earlier?

'Because it hadn't mattered earlier.'

He was too hungry to care right then. But he did decide to be cautious.

"Hai Ji-chan. But first, I have to go to the bathroom, it's late and I really need to go. Could you fix me something?" 'Please let this work!' Sugoroku smiled.

"Of course. Come back down when you're finished." And with that he turned around and went into the kitchen. Danger averted. Yuugi hurried into the bathroom, with a quick stop by the laundry for a clean shirt. He pulled off the old nasty one and ran some water in the sink. He wet a washcloth and started to wash the dried blood off. He unwrapped his arms and washed them as they wept a little from having the scabs upset. He then took some gauze from the first aid kit and wrapped them up. He threw on the shirt, made sure to stash all evidence and raced downstairs. He stopped for a second at the bottom, feeling dizzy. But he kept going. Sugoroku had a sandwich ready for him and a cup of hot chocolate.

'He cared more than I thought. Even though I hadn't thought about the ones who love me as much as I should have before. I'm sorry Ji-chan.'

He sat at the table and dug into the sandwich, hungrier than ever. Sugoroku came into the room with a box. A golden box. One that seemed to be calling out for him... for him to touch it... to hold it...

He realized that Sugoroku was talking and quickly started to listen. The box was from a dig Arthur had gone on, no one was able to solve the puzzle inside. And it was for him? Okay...

He reached for it unconciously, staring at the box with a look of blankness. Sugoroku was startled at how pale his grandson was, and how much thinner he looked from years past. He handed Yuugi the box though, and was rewarded with a rosy cheeked smile.

"Awesome! A puzzle!" Yuugi barely finished his sandwich before racing upstairs to try to put some together before he fell asleep.

He got two pieces together before he fell asleep on the desk.

This is a Page Break………………………………………………………….Just to let you know……………………………………………….

And... thats it for now. I hurt, and Have the urge to puke. I'm gunna go now. If there are any typo's, I don't have Micro word on this POS computer, so deal. Anyways, R&R?

-Ocean, Fly Away Home. The BEST fanfic y/y ever.


	6. Coma White

"Go Philostrate! Stir up the Athenian youth to merriment" - Theseus, Midsummer Night's Dream.

Here I am, this is the most I've held up a story. Yay for me!

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Yuugi awoke the next moring to the constant monotone beep of the digital alarm on his nightstand. Slapping the snooze, he tried to roll over a fall back asleep. But the small movement had awoken the screaming wounds, the ones that reminded him in a flash of the past twenty odd hours. He groaned with the realization of everything that had gone on the day before.

"Yuugi, you'll be late for school if you don't get moving!" Sugoroku yelled up the stairs for his slumbering grandson to get up. He heard a groan, shuffling, and then a slamming door.

In the bathroom, Yuugi peeled down to shower, and as the water warmed, he examined his arms. The flesh around the cuts was sore and bruised, and the cuts themselves were swollen. The skin was slightly puckered where the scabs were formed, drying and flaking in places. He felt some anger in his chest, anger that he had failed, _again_. He had failed to kill himself, had failed to see anything in what he had done.

The anger slowly drained away as he stood beneath the hot water. It drained into a gloom, a hollow depressed feeling. He really was useless. He couldn't even manage to get the one thing straight. What a pathetic little shit.

His anger at himself returned. And as he stood under the spray he held one arm againt his stomach, picking at the scab with the other. He felt the slight pain of it, and it almost felt as good as when he cut. Almost.

The urge had him. Like unto a drug, he needed it. He reached out from the shower to the base of the toilet, pulling the tape away from the straight razor he kept there.

'_This is for my failure.'_

One slow burn as he dragged the razor parallel to the major cut, but not from wrist to elbow, just an inch or two.

'_This is for my weakness.' _

A sharp sting as he went fast across the cut on his left arm.

"This is for my stupidity." He whispered. A slow, aching sensation as the razor slowly swept across his stomache, leaving a trail of fire and blood in its wake.

He felt a little better, like a smoker after the first cigarette of the morning. He sighed and finished his shower. Getting out he wrapped a towel around his skinny hips as he sought the gauze and salve.

"There's something cold and blank behind her smile; She's standing on an overpass; On her miracle mile" He started to sing. A favorite song of his, even if he wasn't the biggest fan of Marilyn Manson. American alternative was just odd sometimes...

He finished wrapping his arms and put the gauze away. He opened the bathroom door, still singing under his breath.

"Cuz you were from a perfect world; a world that threw me away; today, today to run away..." He opened his hell hole closet, grabbed his uniform, and shut the door. He carefully slipped the pants and shirt on, trying not to disturb his bandages.

"A pill to make you numb, a pill to make you dumb; a pill to make you; anybody else." He laughed as he went down the stairs, his bag slapping his back as he lumbered down said stairs. He plastered his usual smile on as he encountered his grandfather.

"Ohayo Ji-chan!" He chirped, grabbing the pro-offered toast on his way out of the house. He had to walk to school, and he would be late if he didn't leave soon. He waved a goodbye to his grandfather without waiting to hear a reply from Sugoroku.

He let out a whoosh of air, letting the smile slip a bit as he walked, contemplating everything that he had done over his weekend. His mind churned over his repeated failures (such as failing to die, not trying again, leaving the house...). And over his stupid mistakes (leaving the house, falling asleep outdoors...). And thus, lost in his inner musings, he never heard the boy calling his name behind him.

"Yuugi, Yuugi! It's me, Ryou! Hold up!" Ryou ran up behind him, clapping him on his shoulder. Yuugi jumped, heart racing. He sighed as he realized it was not Ushio and his gang out to get him, merely a boy.

"I'm sorry, you are?" He asked in a soft voice, trying to be as polite as possible without getting too involved with the whole situation. A saying he had heard before ran through his mind "Don't ever tell anybody anything. If you do, you start missing everybody." It had worked so far. He had been quiet, and no one had bothered to be his friend. You couldn't possibly get hurt if there was no one there to hurt you in the first place. Right?

Mentally anyways. Physically however....

"Ryou, we met last night...?" He looked hopefull, green eyes shining and a seeming laugh waiting to be heard. His light hair and fair skin made him seem exotic, while his odd accent made him strange.

"Oh yeah, the one from the park. You just moved here?" Ryou nodded.

"It's great to know somebody here now!" Said Ryou quietly. He seemed a book- type person. A man after Yuugi's own heart! He loved to read. What a great escape... To be anyone, at anytime. You could be the bravest person, or simply an observer of greatness. Anything could happen in a book. FIction was nice that way.

If only life were as wonderful.

Yuugi looked to Ryou, realizing that the white-haired boy had been speaking for quite some time.

"G-gomen Ryou. I was off on another world. What were you talking about?" He looked sheepishly at the taller teen.

"Its okay Yuugi, it was nothing." He seemed to frown a little inside of his smile. A little downturn to his smile, a little less spark in his eyes. Yugi felt bad for not paying attention, but nothing could be done for it now. Something to be added to his list of shit he did wrong for later.

They walked the last few minutes in silence, one that was as uncomfortable as the itching burn of Yuugi's arms. Yuugi stopped before he reached the doors of the school, halting Ryou before he could go on too.

"What are your classes? Do we have anything together I mean?" He tried to look interested, happy. Hell, he tried to look hyper even. He felt as if the world knew that his smile was fake. Surely Ryou would have noticed by now the fact that Yuugi had been saddly trying to attempt to seem normal?

But no, Ryou didn't notice.

"I have, lets see..." He dug out a schedule from his bag. Holding it in front of him, read out the classes.

"AP Art History, Anatomy, AP Literature, AP Government, Lunch, and AP Calculus and Trig." Yuugi's insides shrivelled as he listened to Ryou read off his schedule. He had all advanced placement courses, whereas Yuugi had mostly on-level courses. Another thing to add to his list.

"Wow, umn... No. I definitly think that we won't be seeing much of each other. I'm in on-level classes, and you... Well, You're in all the advanced ones." He felt like such a dork, stating the painfully obvious."I'm sorry Ryou! I didn't mean to make it sound so... so bad! I merely meant that you were in higher classes, so we won't get to see each other during the day!" He quickly amended, trying to forstall any bad feelings between them.

"No problem Yuugi, I understand. I'll see you after classes then?" He said with a smile.

"Yeah, sure!" A genuine smile beamed from beneath the layers of old and fake smiles. The bell was heard and they both hurried their seperate ways.

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Yuugi sat through his first period with minimal trouble, a few yawns and a dizzy spell. Second period was harder, with him almost getting in terouble for sleeping in class. Third, fourth and fifth went alright, with lunch and study hall spent sleeping rather than either that they were meant for. But in his literature class, he encountered some... trouble.

It had started out innocently enough. A small writing assignment, due at the end of the week. The topic was "What do you like to do and why?" The teacher had challenged them.

"Don't just say things like 'I really like to eat, because it's fun and necessary.'. No, give me something real. Do you like to eat because you are hungry for something you can't have? The affection of a member of the opposite sex? Or maybe you eat from boredom, but feel that you like to do it because you think you like it. Explore your personality. Delve into your thoughts, dreams and desires. Be creative. Now, by the end of the period I want to see three things. The three things you will be writing about."

Yuugi had been thinking for the greater part of that period now, and nothing had come to mind. Hell, he had tried to end his life yesterday because of questions like these! Why on Earth would he want to write about a subject he had no idea how to answer?! He ran through the corridors of his mind, opening and closing mental doors to rooms filled with memories.

When she ambled her way to him, he had little to show for his long period of thought. She stood by his side, observing him.

She saw him as others did, quiet, withdrawn. But he also seemed so friendly and shy. At the same time she knew that there was something more to Yuugi Motou, something dark that he didn't want others to know about. She was hoping that this assignment would be a creative outlet for him. One where she might get to know a bit more about the mysterious personality he kept artfully hidden from plain view.

"How's it going Yuugi?" She asked lightly. She picked up his notebook to look at the sketches and writings he had produced in the period. The doodles were slightly disturbing. They weren't the usual swirls and hearts and stuffs. These were intricately detailed drawings of walls. Corridors. 'The walls of my mind aren't in my head' was the label he had scrawled underneath the drawing. The thoughts on the paper were slightly shallow, and mostly stupid. Things like hang out at the arcade, puzzles, draw, read. There was another that he had apparently erased and crassed out repeatedly, but she could not tell what it had been. His unusual blush was enough to tell her that she had intruded on his private thoughts.

"Not too well actually Mrs Une. I don't know what to write." He looked sheepish, and at the right angle, he looked almost angry and forlorn.

"Well then, explain one of the topics you have written here to me. How about the reading bit. Why do you like to read?" She sat on the top of the desk, watching his reactions as he talked.

"I like to read as an escape. An escape from this life, this reality. In a book I can be who I want to. I can choose how I want to live through the course of it. I can pretend to be royalty, or I can stay in the real world and realize how stupid I am for believing that I could change what I am just by reading. How I sit there, reading a book, trying to escape a life that I shouldn't try to be escaping. What is so wrong in my life that I need to delve into a book to find the answer? I'm sorry, I'm rambling. Don't, " he sighed, "don't mind me." He smiled up at her.

She frowned.

"Yuugi, why do you feel like you have to explain yourself? That's simply how you feel about the subject! This is what I want. I want to know why you love to do what you love. How about the puzzles? Why do you love to do puzzles?"

"I love to be challenged. I've never met a puzzle I couldn't solve." He said smugly. "And it is a great way to feel good about yourself. You've accomplished something that not everyone can do I guess." He quieted down a bit.

"I just got a new puzzle. I can't wait to see what it'll turn out to be."

"Oh really? Doesn't it show you on the box? Like a picture of a kitty or something?" She smiled.

"No, this is one that has never been solved. It's really old. My ji-chan got it from a friend of his, and they thought that maybe I could do it. I doubt it, but I can try!" He grinned. It was false, and as he did it he added another mark to his mental list.

' Why am I saying all of this to her? I don't know! Why does she keep sitting there, acting all high and mighty, like she understands or something!? Why can't she go back to ignoring me? Like she used to. Like everyone used to.'

He smiled darkly. Maybe she just wanted to try to make him feel better.

Fuck. Her.

He held out his hand to ask for his notebook back as the bell rang, signifing the end of the school day.

"Thank you for the discussion Yuugi. I hope you can solve that puzzle." He grinned.

"You know what, thank you too. I'll see you later Mrs Une." And with that, he left.

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Yay for the suckage!


	7. Symbolization is just a realization

So thank you for all the great reviews. I thank each one of you from the bottom of my heart. Seeing that you actually care makes me feel so wonderful!

And my quote of the chapter is:

"Everything is more beautiful because we are doomed."-- Achilles, TROY

You'll see what I mean...

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Yuugi saw Ryou walking home from school, but couldn't manage to make himself go drag the other boy down. Obviously Ryou was in a class above his own, and he would only make the other boy miserable by associating with him. He stared at the ground as he walked, absorbed in his musings. Why had he said those things to Mrs. Une? That was most certainly not in his nature. Maybe it had something to do with the previous day, something that had awakened in him? Something that may have been what kept him alive, even when his will, and his body, were telling him to let go.

Let it all go...

He sighed. If only that was the way of it. But it wasn't.

He fingered his wounds, feeling the scabs even underneath the gauze. His breath hitched as he pressed too hard on a tender spot, feeling the crust break over the healing gashes. A not so subtle reminder of something that had changed in him. He felt raw inside, as though it were his soul that were opened and bleeding, not his arms.

Maybe that was what had changed. Maybe with those few short seconds in which he had torn his life open, he spilled something more than his blood.

Maybe he had spilled something more than his heart.

He shook his head and continued on, scarcely paying attention anymore to the flow of time, traffic, and life around him. He stopped abrubtly, feeling that calling, the longing from somewhere...

_Yuugi..._

Where...? What...?

He shook his head, deciding that not only was he going freaking nuts, he was hearing things. That wasn't ever good, was it? Everything he had ever heard about people hearing voices ended up with them either dead, or as good as. He really didn't fancy being stuck in a mental institution.

Life was just fucking peachy, wasn't it?

Well, whatever. He'd deal. Right?

Sure...

He got home and opened the door. The bell jangled loudly alerting the residents that he was indeed home.

"Yuugi! How was your day?" Sugoroku asked as he finished helping a customer. He looked in the direction of his teenage grandson, only to find that he was no longer there. He caught a glimpse of Yuugi's coat as he slowly went up the stairs.

"Fine ji-chan." Said Yuugi, his voice just barely heard. "I'm going to work on that puzzle for a while. Why don't you call for me when dinner's ready?"

He didn't wait for an answer. Sugoroku frowned. This wasn't like his cheerful grandson. Something had happened over the last few days. Something big. But Yuugi wasn't much different from usual. Just a little quieter. A bit more melencholy.

Maybe it was because he had such trouble finding friends. He'd have to work on figuring it out later though, because right now he was busy with the store.

He stored that thought away for a better time.

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Yuugi dropped his bag in his room before shuffling down the hall to the bathroom. Upon entering, he shut the door and sighed as he sank slowly to the ground. He was feeling a little odd still. More tired than usual. But there was nothing that could be done about it now.

He got up and went to the counter. He stared at his reflection in the mirror. His eyes were so lost, so sad. How could they not notice? He smiled. No, even that didn't make it better. He still looked like a lost and depressed little boy.

He was, but that didn't matter. All that mattered was the fact that he should not look the part of the sad boy.

He pushed up his sleeves and unwrapped the bandages. He let the bloodied gauze float to the ground, watching its slow descent. It seemed that it should symbolize something. Should embody his feelings somehow. Make him see something deep inside of him, like in a story. But as he stared, he realized it was nothing more than gauze.

Used, bloodied, torn.

He pulled his gaze from the gauze to his arms. The old wounds were healing nicely, and the new ones from the morning were scabbing now. He decided that that was enough. If he kept staring, he might be tempted to see them open once again...

He cleaned them, put ointment and bandages back on and threw away his trash.

Maybe that was supposed to symbolize something too... He wondered. But couldn't find the will to care.

He went back to his room to work on the puzzle, filled with that longing, calling feeling once again.

_Yuugi_...

Where was it coming from? This was obviously a side effect of the bloodloss and hunger... maybe he was running a fever...?

No... He wasn't sick, he would have felt it by now. Even an infection in the cuts would have been noticable by now, with the red tender skin and the pus and stuff. Not that he knew this from personal experience or anything...

He grinned slightly as he picked up the golden box. There was something familiar about his box... Like it was something from a dream, something that belonged to him.

He felt it should have been here sooner... maybe this puzzle could have helped keep the loneliness and the anger at bay while he finished it. If he had hear Ji-chan right, then this was a puzzle that no one had EVER solved. If he could solve it, then maybe he wasn't so useless after all!

He sat at the desk, opening the chest to dump out the pieces.

_Yuugi!_

He felt a jolt, like a shocking sensation as he touched one of the pieces. Damn static electricity...

Never mind the fact that the gold was warm now, inviting to the touch... He felt like he was working in a haze, trembling hands seeking out the pieces of the puzzle.

-----------------sorry for the wait... but i had this chapter all done, but i didn't (and still don't) like it as much as I feel it deserves... i kept re-writing it, but oh well. next chapter soonly, I promise!


	8. Summer's days and Winter's nights

Gomen for the absence... If you want more slightly disturbing fics of mine, I highly recommend "Hands Dipped in Blood", "Joker's smile", and "One Thing". Those are the best from my GW area, and "Finality" is a good one from HP.

Just if you feel like you need a good depressing story... there ya go.

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He thought about what Mrs. Une had assigned them It was such a stupid writing topic, if only because he couldn't answer it. He had almost killed himself out of his inabitlity -- fear maybe? -- to answer those questions.

He was scared to see what he liked, what he most desired. He liked friends, where had that gotten him?

He liked puzzles and books, and those were simply ways to escape from a life he didn't feel was good enough. What in his life was so horrible that he was so willing to die for it? What had made him feel so strongly about his life?

He had no one to talk to, no one who cared. No one who would make the pain of this bearable.

But... he had lived like this for so long, he couldn't remember what it was like to be dependent on someone else to make him happy... his hands stopped their movements as it dawned on him, like a wave on the shore.

Only he could make himself happy.

Only he could listen to himself, help himself.

No one was going to fill that empty piece of his heart. No one could make him happier than he made himself...

No one could understand him like he could...

It wasn't like someone could read his mind, be in his heart, feel the things he felt.

He rolled his eyes. Of course other people felt the way he did, that's why so many people killed themselves. He wasn't going to delude himself into thinking that 'no one could ever understand the way I feel' crap.

He knew there were others like him, all over the place.

They're called 'teenagers'.

He shook his head, and continued to piece together the puzzle. He had connected another four pieces, and there were twenty left. Sighing he got up and put the puzzle and the pieces back into the box. He set the box down with reluctance and care, feeling sad as he parted with it. But he was still replenishing his blood, and so he needed to eat and drink something. He could smell the pasta his Ji-chan was making, and his stomach rumbled with anticipation.

He looked down at it, wondering how it made that noise...

"Alright, alright, I'll go get some food. Jeezy pete."

He quietly went down the stairs, a habit picked up from his time with his parents...

'NO! I won't remember them... I won't...'

He shook his head. He really needed some professional help... It might make it easier... But they couldn't afford it. Between Ji-Chan's expeditions and the small trade the shop did, they were in a tight place right now.

He could hear Ji-chan talking to someone. Maybe he was on the phone?

"Well Arthur, I don't know what's going on anymore... He just isn't the same bright child he was anymore. It isn't entirely noticeable, and maybe I've been blind to it for a while now... No, I'm just worried about him. Arthur, how would you feel if Rebecca was sick, and you couldn't help her? See, that's what I'm talking about. Maybe the generation gap is keeping us from communicating. I love him, just as I loved his mother, but ever since I found out about what her husband was doing to them... I couldn't understand why she stayed with him. And then she up and disappeared on us. I still can't shake the feeling that she's out there. Gods above I hope so. Hmm? Oh hold on, I've got another call coming in."

Yuugi was silent throughout the conversation.

So his grandfather wasn't trying to ignore him... a part of him knew that already.

And his mother! She had left him here almost ten years ago, disappearing shortly thereafter. He had always just assumed that she had died, after she never contacted them again. And it didn't hurt as much as he thought it should.

Consciously at least. He still had nightmares about what that bastard of a father had done to them...

"Moshi moshi, Kame Game Shop. Oh hello Mrs. Une! Yes, this is Yuugi's grandfather... " There was a long pause. "Thank you for your concerns Mrs. Une, but I think that Yuugi's just trying to work out some things. He's... I know that teenagers are prone to depression and such ma'am. Yuugi has had some troubles in his life, and he is a bit shy. You have to think about the whole picture sometimes, Mrs. Une. Not just one day, or just one instance. " Another long pause, this one made Yuugi's arms ache and his palms sweat. What if she knew more than she was letting on...?

"Mrs. Une, yes, I will talk with my grandson, and I appreciate your concerns, but Yuugi just needs a bit of time to gather himself. It has been a stressful time for us all, and sometimes all we can do is sit back and watch. Goodbye Mrs Une."

Yuugi let out a breath. Maybe she didn't know everything, but she was getting too close for his comfort...

His Ji-chan sighed into the phone. "Sorry for making you wait so long Arthur. That was Yuugi's literature teacher. She was telling me about Yuugi's "attitude" today." He put up a falsetto voice, mocking Une.

"Yuugi has me worried because he said some odd things today about using escape methods and blah blah blah... She was telling me about his doodling. She said that it was one of the more disturbing things she's seen in her teaching career. Wanted to tell her that she should have been paying closer attention to the other students. All teenagers are a bit melancholy, it comes with the title. Humph... Well, dinner's about ready, so I'll talk to you later. Uh huh, bye Arthur."

Yuugi chose that moment to smile and casually walk into the kitchen.

"Hello Ji-chan! What's for dinner? It smells absolutely delicious!" The smile was so fake... He had to notice.

"Pasta, with a light tomato sauce and a side of toast."

They both sniggered, sitting casually to eat their spaghetti.

"...Yuugi... Is there anything going on that you want to talk about? If you don't that's okay, but just so you know, I'm here."

Yuugi sighed. His arms burned, whether with pain or guilt he wasn't sure. He could feel his chest tighten with the stress and expectation.

_Yuugi..._

The tension melted away, the familiarity of that voice...

"No ji-chan, there's nothing going on. We got a stupid writing assignment today. Mrs Une was all 'I want to know what you like'. I think she just has no life and wants ours."

They both laughed. It seemed so hard to do, but it got easier with practice.

It was hard to keep the sad desperation out of it...

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Dinner was... well...

Awkward was the best way to describe it.

Now that he had gotten the food thing out of the way, he needed to do his homework and sleep. The puzzle fit in there somewhere, sometime. Probably when he gave up trying to do homework and before he went to sleep.

"What I like..."

A sigh, tired and disheartened. He started to write:

_What I like cannot be classified in a simple statement like "What I like is...". The kinds of things that I enjoy are reading, writing, doing puzzles. I like to be with my ji-chan. Whether helping in the store, or just having dinner. I like the sun on cloudy days, the way the clouds look just before a storm. Crisp autumn air and bright golden leaves. Lazy summer days and long warm nights. Walking in the dark, looking up at the stars. I like being alone, and I like being with others. I like the thrill of something good, and I like the feeling I get when I've accomplished something. I like to play around, sing out loud, and generally be noisy. I like to think about how wonderful my life with my ji-chan has been, and I'd like to forget about the time before him._

_What I like isn't any one thing, but a multitude of things, all wonderful in their own right. Each one a memory to hold and cherish. Something to store away instead of a bad experience. _

_I like ..._

Yuugi stopped, feeling the edges of sleep in his mind. He yawned, and got up to dress for bed.

He took off the shirt he was wearing, and unwrapped his arms. He looked at the cuts, remembered how they looked red with his blood. How sticky and dirty they lookd when he woke up. There was such a difference, and it only took a few hours to notice the change.

How could something so beautiful be so ugly later?

His finger traced the lines, feeling the hard scabs, tracing the lines of guilt. He sighed again before rubbing the antibiotic into them. No need for them to get infected...

"_Yuugi"_

It sounded so close, so desperate...

How could he help the owner of that voice?

How could he find them and make them feel... loved?

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Thanks again for all the support people. You really make me happy. Give yourselves a hug.


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